


The Body As Art: A Series

by die_traumerei



Series: Figurative [5]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Avengers Family, Canon Disabled Character, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, figure model bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: A series of short stories (broadly interconnected but largely standalone) centering around Steve drawing Bucky, or Bucky's modeling otherwise being a major part of the story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have some ideas for broad themes, but right now, these are stories that are a little too short to be posted singularly in the Figurative 'verse. To the surprise of literally no one, they'll probably mostly revolve around Bucky.
> 
> NB: I would apologize for their use of grossly mushy emojis, but I am busy throwing up in my mouth too. Be grateful you don't have to live with these two, I guess.

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** Guess whose afternoon class got cancelled!_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** woohoo! I'm at the Tower, want to come here? & can I draw you?_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** honey if I get access to that rooftop jacuzzi you can draw me all night._

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** nah wanna be in there with you ;)_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** :*_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** :* yourself._

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** been making good use of your photos btw. God, you're the best._

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** oh my god AGAIN? you're like a teenager steve I swear_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** shut upppp you're hotttttt. also, I dunno, super-soldier serum?_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** christ almighty, thank heavens there's laundry and fresh sheets right there is all i'm saying_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** promise the bed'll be clean for you bby_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** ugh, it'd better be_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** ps I hope you continue to fantasize about me as an actual sex god who is very kinky and skilled and etc and so forth or whatever is appealing?_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** actual lol, yes, yes I do_

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** Love you, Buck. Wouldn't change you for anything in the world._

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** I know, Steve. I love you too._

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** I would change your inability to do the dishes, though._

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** sorry :)_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** ugh you're lucky you're cute_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** k i'm on the subway, be there in like half an hour. so you can get another wank out, two if you're quick._

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** James Barnes, I am a super-soldier, an elite human being._

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** So that'll be three then._

_**Steve [kiss emoji]:** YUP_

_**Bucky [heart emoji]:** I'm stopping by to say hi in the common room first, ugh._

 

“I will dip you in bleach if I have to, Rogers.”

“Hi, honey.” Steve grinned and pulled Bucky into a hug, and they kissed hello. Then kissed again. Then some more, Bucky's mouth dropping open so they could taste each other, breathe slow through the deep kisses, Bucky's arm strong around Steve's waist.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky breathed, and nosed Steve's cheek a little. “Happy day off to me.”

Steve laughed, and hugged Bucky tight enough to lift him a few inches off the ground. “Thanks for coming all the way into Manhattan.”

“Yeah, it's a real hardship to eat Tony Stark's gourmet food with a load of friends, simmer myself gently under the not-stars of the New York sky, and maybe hang out briefly with my boyfriend,” Bucky teased.

Steve grinned, a little bashful, and Bucky kissed him again. “You still all afterglowy?” he asked.

“Li'l bit. Only managed to get myself off twice,” Steve admitted, and Bucky laughed.

“We'll have a little time for just us before you draw me,” he promised, and walked into the big living room with Steve, the wall of windows looking out onto the cloudless summer day. He lay them down on the sofa, pulling Steve on top of him, head resting on Bucky's chest. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Thanks.”

Bucky smiled and started to stroke Steve's hair, petting the rough strands, and scritching a little now and again. “Anytime, honey. I love being able to do _something_ for you at least. Ah!” he touched a fingertip to Steve's mouth. “Stop. You don't have to argue, I've heard it all before. Shut up and lie down and let me take care of you.”

Steve grinned, kissed the fingertip, and lay down, nuzzling into Bucky's side and kissing what there was of his left arm. “I'm doing this because I want to, not because you said so.”

“Jesus Lord.” Bucky was laughing, though, even as he gave Steve a little pinch. “It's so cute when you pretend I don't have you wrapped around my little finger.”

“Leave me my illusions,” Steve mumbled, in between kissing across Bucky's shoulder, then following the line of his collarbone where it showed under his t-shirt. “Oh, Buck. I love you.”

“Shhh. I love you too, honey.” Bucky slipped his hand under the hem of Steve's shirt, just rubbing his back now. “I've got you, darlin'.”

They lay mostly quietly, after that, Steve letting himself be petted and cuddled for a whole ten minutes before he started to get wriggly again, itching to set Bucky up for a drawing.

“Nude or clothed?” Bucky asked when they'd gotten up again, and Steve was making a pot of coffee.

“D'you mind nude? And can I put your hair up? I want to get your undercut in profile.”

“Of course, hon.” Bucky started to strip down, folding his clothes on the sofa. “Your big easy chair?”

“Yes, please. Oh, that's gorgeous.” Coffee set up, Steve came over and combed his fingers through Bucky's thick hair, pulling it up into a messy topknot, secured with an elastic graciously provided by the model. “Just get comfortable, but curl up a little? Yeah, like that. Hang on.” He moved the chair so that it was at an angle to the windows, and Bucky was partially lit by the sun. “FRIDAY, bring down the lights in here? Perfect.”

Bucky laughed, settling sideways in the chair, his back against one armrest and his feet up on the other, leaning against the back of the chair. It was ridiculously sized, and there was more than enough room for him to curl up on the cool, dark leather. “Thanks for making coffee, by the way.”

“I know how you survive,” Steve teased. “Oh, and we've been invited to dinner, just whatever we can throw together. Nat'll be there,” he added in a sing-song.

“That will be lovely,” Bucky said with a great deal of dignity. “Who else?”

“Clint, Bruce, possibly Tony.” Steve paused. “Oh, maybe Wanda. She's having a bad day.”

“Oh, poor girl,” Bucky said, and turned around to look at Steve. “Not up for visitors?”

“Not really, or I'd have sent you there first,” Steve admitted, pouring their coffee out. (Or, in Bucky's case, flavored creamer with a touch of coffee.)

Bucky made a sympathetic sound. “FRIDAY? Be a love and let her know I'm here? Even if she just wants a quick hello, I'm hers anytime tonight.”

“I'll let her know, Bucky,” came the lilting voice. “Steve, Boss is saying he'll definitely be at dinner.”

“Yay,” Steve deadpanned, and Bucky threw a pillow at him.

Bucky was more than happy to stay curled up in the chair while Steve sketched him in pastels, taking breaks as he felt like it to stretch, wander over, offer a kiss, and refill his coffee as needed. They chatted a little about Bucky's day, but mostly were quiet, comfortable with each other, and Bucky daydreamed a bit. Maybe brunch tomorrow; maybe going out to look at all the dogs in the park with Wanda if she was up for it. Probably Nat swanning around and making him trip over his own feet. Definitely a good, restful time; he'd sleep in and bug Steve for a back massage and generally give his body some needed time off.

They mostly stayed in Brooklyn, but these weekends in Manhattan were a pretty awesome treat.

The sun had started to set when Steve was finally mostly pleased with the drawing. Bucky let his hair down and accepted a hug and a little cuddle before getting dressed again and sprawling on the sofa.

“You look really happy,” Steve observed, coming back into the room after putting his work away.

“I am.” Bucky held his arms out and pulled Steve down beside him, their long legs tangling together. “I'm really happy, love.” He kissed the tip of Steve's nose. “How about you?”

Steve rested his head on Bucky's shoulder. “I love you,” he said softly.

“Having a rough depression day?” Bucky asked. He'd gotten the hang of speaking Steve.

Steve shrugged. “Been worse. It comes and goes.”

“I'm sorry.” Bucky gave him a little squeeze. “I got you, honey.”

Steve smiled at him, then tucked his head under Bucky's chin. “You got plans this weekend?”

“I still have to spend the required multiple hours in the rooftop jacuzzi,” he said, entirely not kidding. “But I'm not working. Can we stay here this weekend, love?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky scritched the back of his neck lightly. “Awesome,” he said, and kissed Steve's forehead. “Need to keep busy?”

“Yeah.”

Steve talked about his depression like he was going to get charged for every word. At least they mostly seemed to naturally trade off on the bad times – although there had a been a few days last winter where Steve hadn't been able to pry himself out of bed and aching bones and migraines had meant Bucky was right there beside him, teaching his boyfriend how to make a nest out of blankets and pillows, and also the joys of mainlining podcasts. It had sucked.

Bucky slipped his hand up under Steve's shirt, and set to stroking his back in long motions, just touching and warming the skin. “Love you. I know I tell you all the time, but I love you, Steve. You make my life so happy, you make _me_ so happy, just by being who you are.”

(Bucky had recently introduced Steve to Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and it had become comfort-watching for both of them.)

Steve smiled and hugged Bucky tightly, and they stayed like that, just holding each other and watching the sun set until FRIDAY let them know that everyone was gathering in the kitchen.

“We can stay here,” Bucky murmured, kissing Steve's ear. “If you need to. I'm here for _you_ , love.”

Steve smiled and kissed him back. “Nah, I want to see everyone. Also I'm starved.”

“You're always starved.” Bucky gave him a little pinch, made sure his clothes mostly looked decent, and they headed for the common room, hand-in-hand.

“Buckyball! Oh, and Steve.”

“Hello Tony,” Bucky said dryly, letting go of Steve's hand with a squeeze. “How not unexpected to see you.”

“I missed you too, pumpkin,” Tony cooed, and wrapped his arms around Bucky, kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

“Are you drunk?”

“I resent that, I am _high_ on _life_ ,” Tony told him.

“He and Bruce did a big science thing,” Clint translated.

“Big science thing go boom?” Bucky asked sweetly 

“No, big science thing go more realistic AI. Someday, when your toaster asks how your hangover is, you'll think of me.”

“I usually think of you whenever I have a hangover,” Bucky offered.

“As what, a substitute for little pink elephants?” Natasha asked, getting up from where she'd been almost entirely inside a cupboard, digging something out.

“Hey Nat,” Bucky said awkwardly. “Um, hi Clint.”

“Hi sweetheart,” she cooed, and came over and kissed his cheek. Bucky tripped over nothing, while not actually walking anywhere.

“Go chop potatoes,” Clint said, taking mercy on him. He nodded to the big island in the middle, where there was a cutting board with a big nail sticking up out of it, and a pile of potatoes.

“You guys,” Bucky said, honestly touched. “Did one of you actually wreck a cutting board so I can help out with dinner?”

“You're so dramatic, no wonder Steve likes you,” Nat said. “Steve, you grate the cheese. No, over there, you're not allowed to stand next to Bucky, neither of you would get anything done. We didn't _ruin_ a cutting board, we drilled a hole in it and found a big nail.”

Bucky grinned, and stabbed a potato on the nail. Now held in place, he and his one hand could chop it into slices for the potato gratin that was being prepared.

“Thanks,” he said softly, the next time Clint wandered past. (Clint was not allowed to help cook, his job was to maintain morale and freshen drinks.)

“Dude, don't mention it.” Clint smiled. “Stop staring at Nat, you're gonna lose a finger.”

Bucky stuck his tongue out, but made quick (and bloodless) work of the rest of the potatoes.

Nat had been prepping two lemon chickens at the same time, and everything went into the ovens together. Bucky took full advantage of his nail to pitch in with a tomato and avocado salad and, refrigerators nicely cleaned out, treated himself to a drink.

Steve, whose cooking skills rivalled Clint's, had already been sent into exile in the big main room, and Bucky tried to suavely wander over to him. Because Nat was able to see him, he tripped over a chair leg, but managed to recover and got himself safely in place beside his boyfriend.

The rest of the night followed the same pattern – hanging out, good food and plenty of it, and Steve always at his side, the two of them cuddling when they could, and Bucky trying to survive Nat's flirting pretty much constantly. Playing video games took them well into the evening, and Bucky mentally rescheduled jacuzzi time when he and Steve both started to yawn, and bid their goodbyes.

They moved around each other easily, getting changed, taking care of all the usual before-bed things, and Bucky was already half-asleep when Steve climbed into the big bed and they could curl up together. Bucky elected himself big spoon, and kissed the back of Steve's shoulder once he was settled.

“Love you. Good night?”

“Good night,” Steve confirmed, and squeezed the hand resting on his belly. “Really good. That helped a lot.”

Bucky gave him a silent, tight squeeze. “Did you tell 'em the nail trick?”

“Un-unh, that one's not on me.” Steve gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “They like you, baby. Want you to feel welcome.”

“Good thing I do,” Bucky said softly, and kissed Steve's neck. “G'night, honey.”

“'night Buck.”

 

Bucky drifted off quickly on the one-million thread count sheets or whatever Stark had provided, with his man safe in his arms, and he slept dreamlessly until he felt someone shaking his shoulder. 

“Mmmm, no, wanna sleep,” he mumbled, but blinked his eyes open. It was still dark, way too early for even Steve to be up. “Wh's wrong?”

“Avengers business. We're all going, for a few days at least.”

Bucky nodded and pushed himself up, wrapping Steve in a fierce hug. “Wish I could go with you.”

“You are not allowed within a thousand miles of Avengers-level danger,” Steve growled, hugging him back tightly.

“I love you. Take care of yourself. I love you.”

“I'll see you in a few days,” Steve promised, and kissed Bucky, then again. “I love you. _You_ take care of _your_ self.”

“Promise. Go, baby, you're needed.” It was always going to hurt, to let Steve go, but a Steve who didn't go off to defend people wasn't a Steve Bucky would fall hopelessly in love with.

“I'll get in touch when I can.” One more searing kiss, and Steve was gone. 

Bucky lay down, his head on Steve's pillow, and listened to the sounds of the night, such as they were, until he drifted off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I says to myself I says, "Self, you really need to write more about their early relationship. Because, Self, it is gonna be AMAZING."
> 
> Also, totally an excuse to explore some of my own relationship with modeling, in comparison to how it would affect Bucky.

“Want me to set an alarm?” Bucky asked, pulling his shirt off. “I can count off the minute or whatever.”

“No need,” Steve said. “FRIDAY? Can you let Bucky know when a minute has passed? For, say, twenty minutes total?”

“Of course, Cap,” came the smooth Irish voice. “Hello, Bucky. I'm the AI here at the Tower.”

Bucky's eyes widened considerably. “Uh. Hello. Thank you...for timing?”

“My pleasure, guys. Bucky, you say when to start.”

“Twenty minutes is okay, right?” Steve asked, looking suddenly anxious. “We can do less, if you need to.”

“Uh, no. Twenty is fine,” Bucky said. “That's usual for croquis, Steve.” Because that was what he would be concerned about, not the disembodied intelligence that would be hanging out with him and his...boyfriend? Sure, 'boyfriend' covered it.

“Awesome, thanks.” Steve taped the sheet of newsprint to the tabaret he'd set up in the big, sunny living room, and Bucky quickly shed the rest of his clothes, folding them neatly on a chair.

“Okay...FRIDAY, is it?” he asked tentatively.

“You got it. One minute starts at the beep. Beep,” the voice said, actually speaking the word 'beep'.

Bucky slipped into his first post, a nice easy standing one, hand at his waist and twisting to one side. The invisible AI hanging out with him and his boyfriend had a sense of humor. He could work with that.

He and Steve worked quietly through the croquis, Bucky moving and twisting his body every minute, falling easily into the rhythm of the poses. He pulled out his favorites for Steve – kneeling at an angle to Steve, arm straight at his side and his stump curving to his back; a variation on a Schiele sketch he loved. Lush reclining poses flowed into sitting, into standing, into crouching, always trying to show movement.

The twenty minutes flew by, as it always did, FRIDAY announcing when the warm-up was over.

Steve was practically glowing as Bucky pulled on his shorts for propriety's sake. (They wouldn't exactly be having sex, but they also hadn't gone much beyond a few shy kisses.)

“Bucky, you're amazing,” he enthused, taking down the newsprint covered in quick sketches. “Those were fantastic, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” Bucky said automatically, and smiled at Steve, the warm feeling in his belly definitely not the usual part of the job. “Hey, uh, FRIDAY? You there?”

“I'm always here, Bucky.”

“Can you...see me?”

“Yes, of course. Oh. Boss always forgets about this part. You have full privileges to put me into privacy mode. I'll be aware of where you are, but won't record anything.”

“Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Bucky. Anything else I can help with?”

Bucky grinned. “Not at the moment. Oh. Let me know when it's been five minutes from....now.”

“You can take a break longer than that,” Steve protested, and Bucky walked over to him, slipping under his arm and kissing his cheek.

“Don't be ridiculous, that was hardly difficult. What d'you want to do next?”

“Two ten-minutes?” Steve asked, wrapping his arm around Bucky's shoulders. He snuggled Bucky close, relaxed and in his element, and pressed an idle kiss to his temple.

“Perfect.” Bucky giggled and turned so he could wrap his arm around Steve's waist. “This place is amazing.”

“Yeah, being the tallest thing around really helps with the light,” Steve agreed.

“Yeah, yeah, the light.” Bucky said and rolled his eyes. “Also the AI. Also the furniture that is nicer than I've ever even _seen_ before. And the...everything.”

“Oh, yeah.” Steve ran his hand through his hair and looked embarrassed. “I sorta...yeah. Forgot about that. You don't mind? We can get a taxi to Brooklyn so easy, if you wanna go back there.”

“You shut your mouth, Steve Rogers. I've got a charming AI who can time for me, I am definitely doing the long pose on that sofa so I can know what true love is, and I wanna order dinner from the Michelin-starred restaurant downstairs. And have it delivered. And eat it in my underpants, cuddling with you.”

Steve started laughing at the start of Bucky's scolding, and was hugging him tightly by the end. “Anything you want, Buck. Promise.”

“This is the life I was born to lead,” Bucky sighed dramatically, and he laughed and kissed Steve briefly, but sweetly. “Thank you. So much.”

“You're welcome.” Steve hesitated a moment, then kissed Bucky back, just as quickly.

“Five minutes, guys,” FRIDAY called out.

“Two tens, then the long pose,” Bucky promised, and wriggled free of Steve's arms to let him finish taping up a fresh sheet of newsprint, and to undress and pose. 

This one was a little simpler, far more classically-inspired than his shorter poses. Bucky twisted at his hips, his legs a little apart and his right foot in front of the left. He raised his right arm and bent it at the elbow, forearm resting on the back of his head. He tilted his head to the right and up a little, as though he'd been caught mid-stretch. The stump of his left arm was still, a quiet counterbalance.

“ _Gorgeous_ ,” Steve praised. “Holy shit, that's amazing, Buck.” He worked quickly, charcoal and pencil for these warm-up sketches. There was already a black smudge on his nose that Bucky was definitely not going to tell him about and see how long it took him to notice.

After Bucky took the second pose – this one sitting, leaning forward on a  _fucking Eames chair Bucky was posing in an Eames chair_ what even was his life everyone should have super-rich boyfriends – Steve seemed to settle into his regular rhythm.

“Do you mind if we talk while you work?” he asked, holding his pencil at arms-length and squinting so he could measure Bucky. 

“No, of course not,” Bucky said. “Whatever you want, Steve. I'm fine being quiet if you need to concentrate, too.”

“Mmm, maybe later in the long one,” Steve said a little distantly. “So how did you get started doing this, anyway?”

“Kind of by accident,” Bucky admitted. “I told you I had to drop out of college 'cause of the train crash, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I never really dropped back in. I sort of always wanted to model – for art, I mean, not like fashion-wise. And a friend needed someone to fill in for a class last-minute, and I answered her text first. It kinda grew from there.”

“That's really cool.” Steve looked up from the sheet, studied Bucky for a moment, then went back to drawing, still sketching out a rough figure. “You ever gonna finish your degree, you think?”

“Nah. Doesn't feel like there's a lot of point to it, y'know? And I like what I do now. Modeling's helped me a lot – I had to learn a lot of coping techniques so I could keep to my schedule. I'm really lucky,” Bucky admitted. “I work with a lot of great people who understand if I have cancel last-minute 'cause of a migraine or whatever. I try to keep to a day or two's notice, but no one's ever been a dick about it. And I've learned how to be really good at updating my calendar and taking care of myself so I _can_ work and stuff like that.”

“You're amazing,” Steve said, and met Bucky's eyes for a moment, giving him one of those amazing smiles that were exactly unlike the way Captain America smiled for cameras. “What do you like about modeling the most?”

“Making art with my body,” Bucky said promptly. “I love that I create something beautiful, or powerful, or interesting, and that...I become a channel for art, without _making_ it, if that makes sense. I like being part of the process. And I like that...” He hesitated, and tried to choose his words. “Sorry, I know what I want to say, but I don't know... _ugh_. Sorry.”

“I'm in no rush,” Steve told him. “Take your time, Buck. We got all night.”

“Might need it,” Bucky said, and took a deep breath. “Right, sorry. Okay.”

 

“Ten minutes,” FRIDAY announced some time later.

“Tell us when another ten have gone by,” Steve ordered, putting his pencil down.

“Steve!” Bucky protested.

“Ten,” Steve said firmly, and winked at him. “I want time to set up for drawing _and_ get a hug.”

“Who knew cuddling was Captain America's kryptonite,” Bucky muttered, pulling on his shorts and flopping on the sofa. He stretched out, and every vertebra in his back popped. He was never leaving this place again.

“You want some water?” Steve called.

“That'd be great actually. I can get it!” Bucky tried to protest, but Steve shushed him, and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, coming back with a carafe that was so simple and modern-looking it probably cost as much as Bucky's whole apartment, and a small glass. He poured a glass for Bucky and left the whole set-up on the side-table by Bucky's head.

“Thanks.”

Steve just smiled down at him, and touched his lips, and Bucky pouted a little kiss onto –oh,  _ew_ .

“Augh! My whole life is already charcoal dust, wash your hands before you do that again!” Bucky wailed, and Steve cracked up, leaning over and kissing the smudge off of Bucky's lips.

“It's just carbon, you big baby.”

“Steve, I have come home with my feet _black_ from charcoal,” Bucky informed him. “I am _set_ for carbon.”

Steve giggled at him again, and went to go tape up a sheet of nicer drawing paper, and pull out his pastels. “Square.”

“Stop practicing your twentieth-century insults on me, it's depressing,” Bucky declared, sitting up and helping himself to the water only when Steve wasn't looking at him any longer.

“But square is so _great_ ,” Steve protested.

“ _Ugh_.”

“Whatever, bae.”

“Oh my _God_.” Bucky started laughing though, and he curled up on the sofa, watching Steve set up. “Hey. I got another reason for you.”

“Yeah?”

“I like how still it all is. I always liked being still, since I was little. You can watch everyone, and they don't see you. It's easy to lose yourself.” Bucky smiled shyly. “And I don't always do great with lots of input. Being still in a quiet studio...I can always deal with that.”

“Oh, Buck.” Steve smiled over at him, taped something, then came over and shoved Bucky over, curling around him. “Good. I'm glad. You're such a gift, I'm glad you found this thing that makes you happy.”

“God, you're sappy,” Bucky said, but he also snuggled closer for a moment, and sighed when he felt Steve's hand rub up and down his bare back. 

“It took me a long time to learn what happy was,” Steve said softly. “It's not something to be taken lightly, finding it.”

“Oh. Oh, honey.” Bucky hugged Steve hard, and pressed a long kiss to his cheekbone. “You're right. It's not.”

“Ten minutes, guys,” FRIDAY said softly, a few moments later.

Steve smiled and kissed Bucky, then got up to take his place behind the tabaret, while Bucky stripped down and took a nice, easy, reclining pose, head on one arm of the sofa, leg thrown up on the back, relaxed as could be.

“Nice,” Steve approved, and started the drawing. “FRIDAY, sing out when it's been twenty minutes, please.”

“Got it, Cap,” she said. 

“And raise the temperature a little around Bucky?” he asked.

“Already taken care of.”

Bucky laughed. “I'd wondered about that. Thanks FRIDAY.”

“I was designed to look after the Tower residents and their guests,” she said smoothly. 

“Nice,” Bucky said, and relaxed into the pose.

 

“I think I have the words now,” he said, a few minutes later. “For what I was trying to say earlier.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, and paused to smile quickly at him.

“My body changed a lot, really quickly,” Bucky said softly. “With the accident. Then it kept changing while I recovered. Being in bed all the time, all the surgeries...yeah. I didn't recognize myself, for a long time. By using my body as a tool, I have to inhabit it. I have to be aware of how it moves, how it can't move anymore. How it feels. And I have to...I have to know myself, in a way that would have been very hard, without this.”

“Oh, honey.” Steve was quiet for a few minutes. “That's amazing. That's so amazing, that you learned yourself all over again.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly. “I guess you'd know what that's like?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah. It...took awhile.”

“Must've,” Bucky said. “I've seen the pictures. You were really different.”

“Pretty much only my face and hands stayed the same,” Steve admitted. “And even then...”

“Yeah. Your jaw's filled out more,” Bucky agreed.

“Uh huh.” Steve sighed. “I'm still...I'm not really used to it all the way. I'm so afraid I'll hurt someone by accident.”

“Oh, hon,” Bucky said softly. “That sounds really hard.”

Steve shrugged. “I shouldn't complain. My body is something perfect, now. I really shouldn't complain.”

“You're not complaining, Steve,” Bucky said. “You're _mourning_. That little guy may've had a laundry list of things working against him, but he was _you_ , which meant he was important. You had that body for what? Twenty-four years?”

“Something like that.” Steve licked his lips.

“And you've had this one for like five! Honey, you got every right to feel strange in your skin!”

“I...uh.” Steve put his pastel down and rubbed the back of his neck. “That's really nice of you.”

“Nice my ass! Steve I had years of therapy to learn that,” Bucky laughed. “Honey, honey. It's not easy, is it?”

Steve shook his head.

“Oh, Jesus. C'mere. FRIDAY, I'm calling an early break.” Bucky held out his arms and pulled Steve down as soon as he got close enough, stroking his hair and rubbing his stump on Steve's back. “What happened to both of us was as different as you can get. But it's also not that different, really.” 

“It's so different!” Steve protested. “What you survived...oh, Bucky. You almost _didn't_.”

“You almost didn't, too,” Bucky reminded him. “The procedure was painful, wasn't it?” He kissed Steve protectively, swinging one leg over both of Steve's and pulling him a little closer. “I'm not gonna say it doesn't matter. You can't even catch a cold anymore, and I get debilitating migraines and sometimes can't get out of bed and also only have _one arm_. That matters a lot. But you got just as much right to your feelings as I do.”

Steve just shrugged, but he rested his head on Bucky's shoulder.

“You do,” Bucky repeated, and gave him a soft kiss. “Ugh, heavy stuff,” he said, and sighed, resting his head against Steve's.

“Yeah, it blows,” Steve agreed, and kissed his throat. “Cuddle for another minute or two, then go back to art?”

“Deal,” Bucky said, and kissed Steve to seal it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to everyone who was really, really patient with me when I basically could not hold a pose to save my life at a night class the other week. Sorry guys :)
> 
> (I did not have a hot partner to go home to to rub my back so this, like so much else, is just pretty blatant self-fan-service.)

“Last pose of the night,” the monitor, a friendly middle-aged woman, said. (Steve had totally missed her name, but he could get it from Bucky later. Drawing was more important.)

He sketched a quick wireframe, and decided to try a new technique, lightly sketching cylinders and bowls instead of his usual neat, flowing lines. Working carefully, the new shapes slowing him down, he reduced the model to a series of simple solids jointed together.

She was twisted around, body shoulders and hips at a deep angle to each other, and Steve frowned – it was a good pose, but she was starting to untwist a little.

A gentle call from someone else in the class, and she corrected. Next to her, Bucky mirrored her, although in a lighter twist. Good – he wouldn't ache that night. They had taken good counter-poses to each other that night, and Steve was happy enough to get the back of Bucky's head or shoulders, but honestly, he so rarely got to draw the female form, he had mostly stuck to that model.

Also, he got to draw Bucky whenever he wanted to, and was appropriately smug about it.

Geometric shapes were smoothed out and became skin, sketchy and light. Steve frowned at his work – she was untwisting again, poor girl, and kept correcting herself. He played a little with line, and then inking in a sharp outline. No playing with shadows that night, he'd decided, and anyway the lighting wasn't great.

At the end of the twenty minutes, Bucky and the girl – Anna, that was her name, she and Bucky had worked together before – slowly untwisted and unfolded themselves, stretching out numb limbs.

Steve joined in the chorus of thank-you's to the models, both of whom bowed a little in return, and he overheard Bucky say he was still waiting to get feeling back in his legs, so she should go first to get changed. Steve definitely _meandered_ over, and even talked to one of the other people, someone he'd seen at another drop-in group, and did not make a beeline for his boyfriend (his _boyfriend_ he had a _boyfriend_ and he was hot and funny and sweet as could be and he was _Steve's boyfriend_ that was never going to get old ever). Bucky had even had time to get into his robe and was stretching carefully.

“Everything good?” Steve asked, definitely super-casually.

“Yeah.” Bucky grinned. “At the pins and needles stage.”

“Ouch.”

“Uh huh. Good night?” he asked.

“Yeah, really good.” It had been, too – both models had been interesting to draw, and complemented each other well, and the group had been friendly and professional. Steve had gotten to try out a new technique and a little work with a pen, and then he was going to go home and not have sex with his boyfriend.

 

It was on their second date – and it was definitely a  _date_ – that Bucky had brought it up. Bluntly. “You should know, before we go further, I'm asexual.”

“You're what?” had been Steve's extremely intelligent and sensitive answer. “Oh, wait, no, I know that one!” he'd blurted out about two seconds later, and thank _God_ Bucky had laughed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he managed between giggles. Bucky had taken another sip of his latte and smiled at Steve across the top of the mug, and Steve's stomach had done a swooping thing. “So what's _your_ understanding of what that means?”

“That you're not sexually attracted to other people,” Steve had said. “But you still like to date and stuff like that. Uh, unless you're aromantic?” He bit his lip. “Oh, honey, it's okay if you are, this doesn't have to be a date--”

“I am very much _not_ aromantic,” Bucky had said firmly, and put his coffee down to reach for Steve's hand, squeezing a little. “I love dates. And I like touching and cuddling and kissing and all of that.”

Steve had squeezed back.

“But you're right, that I'm not sexually attracted to you, and I never will be.” He smiled softly. “I'm attracted to you in a whole lot of other ways. But you _are_ sexual, and I don't want you to be in a relationship that won't work for you,  no matter how much I like you. I'm sex-repulsed; it's not something where I just won't care, or will be curious. In relationships I've had...” Bucky shrugged. “Sometimes I don't even like kissing with tongue, and I usually don't like sexual touching, even if it's not on genitals, if that makes sense?”

“Okay,” Steve said, kind of at a loss. “Uh. I'm really attracted to you too. Not just sexually, although that's...kind of a part of it? I don't want to have sex if you don't want it,” he rushed to say. “But that's part of the attraction. I'm sorry.”

“Don't you dare be. It's how you're wired, and it's no more wrong than how I'm wired.” Bucky smiled and squeezed his hand again, before gently letting go so he could sip his coffee. “And I'm vain enough that I'm really flattered, honestly.” His grin grew. “Pretty big compliment, for a guy as good-lookin' as you to find me hot.”

“I find you _very_ hot,” Steve said fervently. “But. Um, okay. I've never dated anyone asexual before, so I don't really know what to do, but I can learn. Honest I can, Bucky.”

“Dude, this was not me breaking things off!” Bucky said, visibly startled. “Honey, really think about this, please. Can you date me without sex?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Steve asked, feeling more than a little lost and desperate. “Buck, I really _won't_ know until I try. I want to try. I think I can make it work on my end. Please, can we try?”

“Yeah. Oh, Steve, yeah, I'd love that.” Bucky had smiled so sweet and wide and gently kicked their feet together. “We'll talk a lot, and make it work for us.”

“So...what _do_ you like?” Steve had asked, deeply curious.

“You.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Steve had said, but Bucky was already cackling at his own cleverness.

“Seriously? Nonsexual touching – cuddles and massages and sleeping together. Hugs and kisses. Holding hands is sort of a pain for me, but touching...yeah. I love that.” Bucky had smiled a little at that, eyes distant. “Playing together – like wrestling, that's usually good. Swimming together, or taking a bath together. I like dates. I like the ritual of them, and I like dressing up and doing something a little bit special with someone I care about. Uh. I mean, I like...what everyone else does, I think. Just not ending in sex.” He made a face. “And I really don't like...let's call them the byproducts of sex. Seriously, even the smell...” Bucky shook his head, wrinkling his nose.

Steve grinned. “That all sounds amazing, actually. And really fun.” He smiled shyly. “Have you dated sexual people before?”

“Uh huh. Most've my partners. They'd just let me know they needed some alone time, and I'd go do whatever while they got off, and then we'd cuddle together afterwards,” Bucky said, guessing at Steve's unspoken question. “Once in awhile I'm okay with being there while my partner gets themselves off, but usally I'm actively turned off by it all.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I mean...I can definitely work with that.” He smiled up through his lashes at Bucky. “I like touching and cuddling too. And I love taking you out on dates and getting to show you off.”

Bucky had all but visibly melted, and Steve was incredibly glad that the one time in his life he got his shit together and didn't act like a dip was with this lush man.

He'd taken Bucky out to dinner soon after; then Bucky took him to a gallery exhibition, and they had kissed outside in the cool, early spring evening, Bucky warm and solid in Steve's arms. They had kissed again that night when Steve left Bucky at his door, and kissed some more the next morning, when Bucky came over with bagels and lox.

They had very, very much enjoyed the kissing. And then Bucky had mentioned this open sketch group, and of course Steve had come along, and he'd mentioned in return that it would be awfully nice if Bucky wanted to go back to his place afterwards for some time hanging out together. And also Steve had gotten some really nice massage oil and had found someone to teach him a few basics and by then he was stumbling over his words so badly Bucky gave up and cracked up.

“I'm not laughing at you,” he'd insisted, when Steve glared at him. “Okay, I am a bit. Steve. Dear heart.” He had reached for Steve and pulled him into a little kiss, right there under a beautiful budding tree, in front of God and everybody. “I like you. A _lot_. Don't be afraid of me, okay?”

“Not afraid. Just bad at this,” Steve protested.

“Pretend I'm a villain and this is how you have to defeat me,” Bucky had teased. “You're always so smooth on TV.”

Steve had groaned and given him a little shove, and they'd chased each other around until Steve  had gotten distracted by a trio of golden retrievers.

 

They took the subway home together after the modeling session, Steve smiling like a dope the whole time while Bucky stretched out and leaned against him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh huh. Just kinda achy, but not bad.” He smiled at Steve and snuggled close until Steve put his arm around Bucky's shoulders. “Be nice to lie down.”

“Uh huh.” Yes. It would be very nice to have Bucky lie down in his bed and strip to his unders and for Steve to smooth sweet oil all over him, get to run his hands all over that beautiful body and make Bucky sigh and wriggle and relax and be happy...

Steve wrenched himself back to earth in time for their stop. The cool air on the walk to their building woke him up a little more, and seemed to do the same for Bucky, who perked right back up, nudging and teasing Steve, then plucking an early apple blossom from a tree for him, delivering it with a little kiss.

“This is so much fun,” Steve blurted out, and grinned, a little shyly. “This early part. Where we're just learning each other. I love this.”

“Me too,” Bucky said, and they paused to kiss, but just for a moment because – bed.

They made it home the rest of the way without interruption, and Steve gently nudged Bucky back to his bedroom while he went to get them water.

“I see you're still comfortable there,” he teased, coming into the bedroom, and Bucky groaned and hid under a pillow.

“I get drunk _once_ , and I gotta embarrass myself in front of you,” he mumbled, while Steve removed the pillow and leaned over to kiss Bucky silly.

“And lucky for me, too.” He rubbed Bucky's belly. “Hey, baby. For real, you feel like getting rubbed down? Just lightly, more for touch than actually messing with your muscles.”

Bucky's smile was stunning. “I would love that. Thank you.”

“Get as naked as you want, okay?” Another little kiss, and Steve pried himself away to dig out the almond-scented oil he'd bought and light a few candles, turning off the big ceiling light.

Bucky quickly stripped down to his undershorts and lay back on the bed, loose and easy and smiling.

Steve walked a little closer, and froze.

He'd seen Bucky naked before, of course. He'd seen Bucky naked  _two hours ago_ . But posing and Steve at a distance and working weren't the same thing at all as Bucky in his bed lit by warm candlelight, so vulnerable and open.

His boyfriend was covered in scars.

The thick, long one down his chest, where they'd had to open him up and stop so much bleeding. His legs and hips, criss-crossed from injuries and then surgeries, the winding scars silvery in the light. The way his left arm stopped a few inches below the shoulder. And smaller scars too, nearly invisible in the low light, but all testament to how much Bucky had been through.

There was no way Steve could touch this precious man. He would only hurt Bucky; how could someone carrying this much damage  _not_ get hurt? Steve wouldn't mean to, but he'd fuck something up and hit a muscle wrong or be too hard over healed bones and –

Bucky laughed at him and gave a little wriggle. “God, I really love your bed. You're never getting me out of here, by the way.”

Steve swallowed, and came back to himself, to his sweet boyfriend moving easily in his bed, to the way Bucky stretched his limbs, reveling in his soft little nest. And he laughed, and remembered that was going to be okay – that Bucky was fine, and Steve would be fine.

“I think I can live with that,” he managed and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to kiss Bucky. “Turn over and get comfortable, beautiful. I'll start with your back.”

“Ooooh.” Bucky flipped over, shoving pillows out of the way so he could turn his head and rest on the flat surface. 

Steve started by straddling his thighs, kneeling so that most of his weight wasn't on Bucky. He poured the oil into his hands and rubbed them together, warming beyond even his usual high skin temperature.

Bucky groaned loudly and very happily at the first pass of Steve's hands, just a broad sweep from lower back to shoulders. “Oh  _God_ yes.”

Steve giggled. “I've barely  _started_ .”

“Feels so nice.” Bucky gave him a sleepy smile. “Just gettin' touched for the fun of it and all.”

“For me, too,” Steve reassured him softly, and went back to work, putting more oil on his hands as needed as he worked out from Bucky's back. He rubbed the knots out of his lower back and shoulders, but otherwise the massage was light, warming Bucky's skin, all big, sweeping movements. Steve had tracked down one of the massage therapists at Stark Tower and basically begged her for a lesson in the basics, especially for handling the stump of Bucky's arm.

She'd given it gladly, and Steve used every bit of advice now – diffuse force, the touching more important than anything, and his own innovation, little kisses scattered in innocent places. He moved around the bed, rubbing Bucky's back, his shoulders and his arm, and, very carefully, what there was of his left arm. Then his legs, long and muscled and gorgeous.

He learned Bucky had very ticklish feet and ribs, and moaned and went limp when Steve stretched the muscles on the front of his shoulders then kissed his collarbones. He was circumspect and gentle, and drew it all out so that it was over an hour later when he finished by massaging and stretching Bucky's fingers, then gently laid his hand at his side.

“Okay, baby?” he asked softly, resting his hand on Bucky's side and rubbing his belly a little with his thumb.

Bucky just groaned. “Oh my  _God_ . Oh my God. You're perfect. You really are an American hero.”

Steve laughed, and got up to put away the oil at least. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, you are!” Bucky gave a little moan and a wiggle. “That was heaven. Thank you so, so much. C'mere, please.” He held out his arm and giggled when Steve lay down, awkward and stiff. It took some doing, but they figured out how they could lie together, how their limbs fit together.

Steve slipped an arm around Bucky's body and cradled him a little closer. “I loved that,” he said softly. “Thank you. It was wonderful, getting to touch you that much.”

“Mmm. It was great getting touched.” Bucky yawned a little. “I'll return the favor soon.”

Bucky. Touching him all over. Teasing and tickling and that clever hand, and –

Steve wouldn't survive, but what a way to go.

“Guh,” was Steve's helpful contribution, and he started laughing when Bucky giggled, his whole body shaking with it. And they were laughing together like the giant dweebs they were, kissing and giggling and hugging each other.

Bucky got up to blow out the candles when it became pretty obvious that they were both falling asleep. Steve got changed into pajamas and offered a spare set to Bucky, the two of them tumbling back into bed, rearranging themselves more easily this time.

“You want little spoon?” Bucky asked, and in reply Steve rolled onto his side, back to Bucky, who giggled and wrapped around him. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” Steve said, and meant it. He hadn't been _without_ lovers since he'd unfrozen, but they'd mostly been one-night stands, maybe a few dates here and there, but no long relationships, and nothing for a long time before Bucky. Being touched was pretty amazing for him, too.

“Good night, honey. Thank you for everything.” Bucky kissed just under his ear. “Sweet dreams.”

Steve smiled at wriggled a little, getting more comfortable, determined to stay awake and enjoy the body holding him, the sweet man at his back. “'Night, Buck. Sleep well. Wake me if you need anything.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky yawned and nuzzled the back of Steve's neck. Steve felt his breathing slow and deepen, and settled in himself. He'd drift off in time, and until then, could enjoy the quiet of the night and the company in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

“Hi, honey,” Bucky called softly, letting himself into the palatial bathroom.

Steve's eyes slitted open, and he sat up out of the water incrementally. “Buck."

“Hey.” Bucky sat on the edge of the giant tub and leaned over to kiss Steve's forehead. “Nat told me it was a bad one.”

Steve just shrugged.

“You get hurt at all?”

Steve shook his head once.

“Good superhero,” Bucky praised with a smile.

Steve gave him a half-smile back. “I'm fine.”

“Mmm.” Bucky touched his fingers to Steve's chin and tipped his head back for a kiss. “I love you. I'm sorry I had to work and couldn't get here sooner.” 

“That's how your work goes,” Steve said. “I understand that, hon.” He gave Bucky another funny half-smile. “Go okay?”

“Wonderfully. Watercolor portrait, easy as can be.” Bucky guided Steve's head to rest on his thigh, and scritched Steve's hair. “I'm back again tomorrow evening.”

“That's awesome, honey,” Steve said, and Bucky's heart broke when Steve managed a tiny smile for him.

“Thanks.” Bucky leaned over and kissed Steve's forehead. “I need a shower, but can I just sit here with you afterwards?”

“Uh, if you want?”

“I want,” Bucky assured him.

He stripped down quickly, a little concerned when Steve didn't even openly ogle him; he usually didn't give up a single chance to let Bucky know how much Steve loved his body. Bucky showered in glass-walled stall quickly, shamelessly stealing Steve's bathrobe to cuddle in before perching again on the side of the bathtub.

“Hi,” he murmured. “I love you. What can I do?”

“I love you too. Nothing.”

“Can I stay with you?”

Steve gave the barest nod.

“Thanks, baby.” Bucky said, settling down on the thankfully-generous platform that surrounded the bathtub. It took another minute for Steve rest his head back on Bucky's thigh and let Bucky stroke his neck.

“We didn't do enough,” he muttered, voice heavy and thick.

“You did as much as you could,” Bucky said. “I know you, all of you. Not one of you slacked off.”

“We didn't...people _died_.”

“It's not your fault,” Bucky said. “All of the Avengers, you work your asses off.” He smiled softly, and tapped Steve's cheek. “You save _so many_ lives. That's why I'm so proud of you. Part of why.”

“We weren't enough today, though,” Steve said, and wiped his eyes.

“Sometimes you won't be. Doesn't undo the other good you do.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn't stop. No matter what I do...doesn't stop.” He buried his face in his hands for a moment. “Bucky, I can't do enough.”

“No one can do it all, love,” Bucky reminded him. “But you're doing something. A lot of somethings, actually.” He gave Steve a little nudge. “We're goin' through your mailbag soon. All those people who love you, who you helped, who are grateful to you.”

Steve lowered his hands and shook his head. “It'll never be enough.”

“Okay. It won't. But it'll be something. And to people whose lives you save? It'll be _everything_.” Bucky reached over and rested his hand on the crown of Steve's head. “Think of the people who saved my life. They had other patients die. They had other patients _from the same accident_ die. But I lived.”

“You fight really dirty, you know that?” Steve mumbled, turning and burying his face in Bucky's waist. “Also I'm still pissed that Buffet beat me to an endowment for them, in case you were wondering.”

Bucky laughed softly. “I totally fight dirty, you knew that from the start. Mourn as long as you need to. Be as sad as you need to, love of my life. But recognize your own goodness too.”

Steve just nodded, and they pressed together while Steve had had a good cry and Bucky cried a little with him, until Bucky started to yawn.

Steve got up at the first yawn and Bucky helped rub him dry, and they quietly got dressed for bed together in low lamplight.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured, wrapping himself around Steve. “I've got you. I promise. I love you no matter what.”

Steve smiled, eyes already closed. “You promise?”

“Promise. You're my best guy,” he teased.

“You're mine.” Steve forced his eyes open. “You're...Bucky. You're so important to me. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Bucky soothed “C'mon, love. You need sleep.”

“ _You_ need sleep,” Steve mumbled. “'m a superhuman. Don' need anything.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, baby.” And so Bucky held his superhuman boyfriend until he was snoring lightly, and then dropped off himself.

 

Something smelled _amazing_.

“Hmm?” Bucky burrowed a little deeper into the thick quilt, and smiled when he felt Steve's hand on his back.

“Shh, you can sleep a little longer.”

“ _Mmmmhmmm_ ,” Bucky agreed, and went to yank his pillow closer. He stretched his arm up and tried to reach except –

“Oh, God damn it.”

Steve cracked up. “Did you just forget and think you had a left arm?”

“Definitely not.” Bucky yanked his pillow closer and threw his head down, wriggling happily. “I would never.”

“Really? 'Cause that's not what it looked like from here...”

“You, shut it,” Bucky ordered, and grinned up at Steve. “What smells good?”

“Breakfast is baking.” Steve leaned over and kissed just over Bucky's ear, tickling the short, soft hair there. “I'll get it in a few minutes.”

“Yum.” Bucky yawned, and stretched. “How you feeling, love?”

“Okay. Not great. Better than last night.”

Bucky nodded, reaching out with his stump to urge Steve closer for a little hug. “I'll take it. You sleep okay?”

“Uh huh.” Steve stroked his back, big sweeps of his hand, just getting the blood moving. “You?”

“Mmmhmm.” One more stretch, and Bucky pushed himself up, reaching for a hug and a kiss. “Hi, love.”

“Hey there.” Steve had the dopiest grin imaginable on his face. He kissed Bucky again, soft and warm, although Bucky politely didn't open his mouth when Steve touched his tongue to Bucky's lips.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

“Nothin' to be sorry for,” Bucky whispered back, and kissed a line along Steve's cheek to make up for it. “Hey, you cuddle up here, I'll get breakfast.”

“Nope. My turn,” Steve informed him, and firmly tucked the covers around Bucky's legs. “I'll be back before you know it.”

Bucky just shook his head and smiled, and lay back on the pillows.

Steve _was_ back pretty quickly though, with baked french toast and coffee for both of them on a tray he spread over their legs. They both ate hungrily, and between them decimated a pot of coffee quickly.

Bucky won the fight to brew the next pot, though by then they were migrating to the kitchen.

“You've got today free, right? I mean, before work this evening?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said, wrapping the leftovers up for later. It was unlikely he was going back to his place that nice, and they'd make a nice breakfast tomorrow.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he and Steve had spent a night apart, when they were both in New York? He was hard-pressed to think of it.

“D'you mind doing some quick croquis? I want to experiment with some new stuff,” Steve asked.

“I'd love to, sweetheart.” Bucky closed the fridge door with his hip and reached for a hug. “I'm all yours, all day.”

“No more than half an hour. You need time not working,” Steve chided gently, but he slipped his arms around Bucky and cuddled him close. “Also, we have _so much_ of that Tiny House show to catch up on.”

Bucky giggled, and kissed the side of Steve's head. “Uh huh. Look, you get your stuff ready and we'll work in your living room. Unless you want to go to my place?”

Steve shook his head. “Here's fine, baby.”

Bucky gave him an extra hug because sometimes Steve had trouble leaving his apartment, and if he needed to feel safe, Bucky was damn well going to help him feel safe. “Love you,” he whispered in Steve's ear, before heading for the living room and stripping down.

Steve disappeared into his studio and came back with a watercolor pad, a plastic palette already dotted with paint, and a water brush.

“You're going to do watercolor gestures?”

“Uh huh.” Steve grinned. “I said it'd be something new. Also, no charcoal dust on everything.”

Bucky blinked. “Steve, I knew you had depression, but this is an unprecedented level of self-hate. Are you okay, honey?”

Steve started laughing. “Oh my God, everybody's a fucking critic.”

“Well, _yeah_.” Bucky was giggling too, from where he'd curled up on the armchair. “Okay, dweeb, we'll do your stupid watercolor croquis. I'll set twenty minutes on my phone.”

“Fair enough. Can you throw a couple of thirty-second ones in there? Surprise me.”

Bucky grinned at him. “Will do. Ready, love?”

“Ready,” Steve confirmed, and Bucky got down to work, throwing the most flowing, active shapes he could manage. The twenty minutes sped past, and as soon as he'd turned the alarm on his phone off, Bucky bounced over to peer over Steve's shoulder. “Oh! These are really cool!”

“Uh huh. I saw someone doing something similar at that last open group you dragged me to.” Steve leaned back a little so Bucky could see more clearly. He'd stuck with a single color, a soft orange-red, and Bucky's body was reduced to a handful of lines, the twist of his spine and limbs outflung.

“Beautiful,” Bucky said, and kissed his cheek. “Wanna do another set?”

“Five two-minute poses okay?”

“Ten two-minute poses is fine.”

“No, it's not.” Steve set the pad of paper aside and pulled Bucky around, kissing his belly. “I'm getting a free model, and you need downtime. I'm serious, Buck. 'Sides, I want to hang out with you while I can.”

“You goin' away next week?” Bucky asked, a little sadly.

“Yeah, love. Got to do some SHIELD training out of the country. I'll be gone Monday through Friday.”

Bucky looked pained. “You've told me this already, haven't you?”

“I mentioned it in passing,” Steve soothed. “It's on your calendar, baby, you wouldn't have, like, woken up to an empty bed.”

Bucky frowned, and knelt to hug Steve. “Sorry anyway. Then yeah. Ten more minutes, and then we get boyfriend time.”

Steve smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Good. And thank you. You never have to say yes to this, you know that right?”

“I know. I like posing for you,” Bucky reassured him for the five hundredth time. “And it's not like you even ask when I'm really tired.”

“Well, duh.” Steve flipped to a new page for the next set. Longer poses this time; he took to filling in shadow, adding soft outlines with pencil when called for, but mostly concentrating on reducing his brilliant, multifaceted, crazy, wonderful boyfriend to shadow and light. To capturing the way he moved with just blocks of color. It was insanely difficult, and deliciously rewarding.

Bucky roundly praised the next set of paintings, and Steve wrapped him up in a blanket and pulled him down onto his lap.

Bucky giggled, head resting on Steve's shoulder. “You already turned the heat up!”

“Yeah, but you're not moving right now.” The blanket was plush, fake fur, and stupidly soft and cozy against Bucky's bare skin. Steve tucked him in a little more firmly.

Bucky lifted his head enough to catch Steve's mouth in a soft kiss. Lips still closed, but trying to show his care just the same.

Steve bumped their foreheads softly when the kiss ended, and Bucky smiled. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” Steve said. “You show me all the time.” A little kiss on the short-cropped hair on the side of Bucky's head. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Bucky snuggled a little closer. “Watch a little TV?”

“Uh huh. You okay like this?” Steve asked.

“Yup. Unless you want me to get dressed?”

“Pretty much never.” Steve laughed at the look this earned him, and found an appropriately soothing home improvement show. And made sure Bucky's feet were rubbed warm, and then tucked under the edge of the blanket.

Bucky gently nudged him to stop fussing after the first episode, and they settled down, snuggled together and giggling, loudly judging decorating choices until almost lunch.

Steve cooked grilled cheese sandwiches while Bucky got dressed – his own sweatpants and a t-shirt he swiped from Steve, because what was too small on his massive boyfriend fit Bucky perfectly.

He wandered into the kitchen, studying his phone and frowning.

“Everything okay? Oh, d'you want tea with lunch?”

“Nah, water's fine. And yeah, it's okay. I mean, nothing's _wrong_ exactly.” Bucky got them drinks, and balanced his water glass on the side of his plate to get it to the table. “Just. I checked our calendars, and it's literally going to be a month until we get more than a few hours together. And even that'll go out the window if I get another gig.”

“Seriously?” Steve took a huge bite of his sandwich – lying around and critiquing midcentury modern design was _difficult_ , especially when you had a total cutie sitting on your lap and making loud counterarguments – and checked Bucky's phone. “Well. Shit. You're right.”

Bucky nodded, and sighed. “We can have half days and evenings and stuff here and there...”

“But yeah. Not the same.” Steve agreed. “Well, fuck. That sucks.” He gave Bucky's leg a light kick. “We gotta plan a vacation. Just you and me, love. Go out to Tony's cabin for a weekend, maybe a whole week if we can manage it.”

Bucky smiled at him. “That sounds amazing. My work goes pretty dead in January. Winter escape to the woods?”

“Hell yeah.” Steve grinned at him. “Fires every night. We can go hiking in the woods, or just watch the snow fall. Whatever we wanna do.”

“Bliss,” Bucky agreed, and grabbed another sandwich off of the pile Steve had made. “Thanks for lunch, by the way.”

“Of course.” Steve had redone his kitchen in the little ways that made it easier for Bucky to help, but he liked cooking for his man, and loudly took over kitchen duties whenever the chance came up.

Bucky cleaned up because fair was fair and also he won the tickle fight, and literally stood on the body of his vanquished foe to scrub the frying pan.

“Urk,” Steve said, facedown and slightly squashed on the floor.

Bucky moved to rest one foot on Steve's ass, the other staying turned out, steady on the back of his ribcage. “Oh my God, you baby. You can bench like ten times my weight.”

“You are so _mean_ ,” Steve grumped, so Bucky didn't let him up until he'd washed their plates too.

They headed through the building to Bucky's so he could put on some actual clothes, and they could have a little change of scenery. His studio apartment was flooded with light, filled with plants, and his bed was placed so that they could cloud-watch through a huge skylight. Steve unashamedly loved it.

Bucky picked through his laundry while Steve sprawled across his bed. “Shit. I need to do laundry soon,” he said, finally finding a pair of jeans that weren't too gross, and keeping the borrowed t-shirt.

“Use my washer and dryer,” Steve said, rolling onto his belly. “Seriously, anytime.”

“I do,” Bucky teased, and leaned over for a kiss. “Thanks. Half my clothes are at your place anyway.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve could definitely see at least three pair of underpants that he knew were his from where he was lying.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and picked a little at the seam of his duvet. “About that. You got a minute to talk?”

“Yeah.” Steve sat up against the head of the bed. “What's wrong? Do you need time to yourself? Because that's...that's okay.”

Bucky sighed and gave him an annoyed look. “You're such a shitty liar, Steve. And stop that. We've talked about you putting words in my mouth. _Listen_ to me first.”

Steve flushed red. “I'm sorry. We've _also_ talked about you not getting to the point.”

“Sorry, that's fair.” Bucky took a deep breath. “Take two. Steve, you got a minute? I want to move in with you. Well, I want us to live together, anyway.”

“What?” Steve said dumbly.

“We practically do already,” Bucky said. “Seriously, when was the last time we were both in New York and slept apart?”

Steve started to smile, one of those amazing, toe-curling grins that even Bucky saw only rarely. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously!” Bucky laughed. “I want to live with you, honey. You in?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve said, and launched himself across the bed, gently tackling Bucky and hauling him back, kissing him and then dotting happy kisses across his face, lips pressed against giggles and Bucky shaking with laughter and then hugging him back, kissing him back.

“You sure?” Bucky asked, as they twined their bodies together. “I'm a pain in the ass when I'm hurting.”

“I know,” Steve said. “We're never apart, remember? And I'm a pain in the ass _all_ the time.”

“Nah, just most of the time.” Bucky giggled, and kissed him again. “I can't wait to share a place. I guess I should move in with you? Since your apartment's bigger?”

Steve shook his head. “I want a new place for us to share. That'll always have been _ours_.”

Bucky smiled at that. “It'll have to be big. Two bedrooms, so you can have a studio.”

Steve nodded. “And a really nice master bedroom, with windows and a good view.” He rubbed Bucky's hip. “If my baby's feeling poorly, I want him to have something interesting to look at.”

Bucky giggled. “That's what Netflix is for. But yeah.” A soft, sweet kiss. “When the world gets to be too much for my love, I want him to be able to look out onto beauty.” Another kiss. “Lots of light in your studio too. North-facing, maybe. And a big kitchen so we can cook for our friends.”

“A nice bathroom, too,” Steve decided. “We both like baths too much for anything else.”

Bucky smiled. “And stay in Brooklyn. I love it here, and it's your home.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled shyly. “It's so different, now. But it's still home.”

“I forget way too much, that you were born into a different world.” Bucky ran the back of his fingers along Steve's cheek. “I forget how much you've had to adapt. I'm sorry.”

“It's not so bad.” Steve smiled down at him. “I'm making a real life.”

Bucky nodded, and pulled Steve down so they could cuddle and kiss in the early winter sunlight, making plans together for their new home.

A month later, they spent their first full weekend together moving into their new apartment. It was only a few blocks away, and was very nearly perfect. The rooms were arranged a little oddly, but they had the whole third floor of a house that had been built the year Steve was born. The kitchen was dark and poky, but the living room and Steve's studio had huge bay windows, and the bedroom had a window seat that overlooked a pretty park. There wasn't a lot of space, and the heat clanked when it turned on and continued to do so intermittently for the entire time it was on. They both loved every inch of the place.

That first night they made their bed together and crawled under the piled quilts. There was a short fight over who got to be little spoon, decided when they lay on their sides facing one another and kissed, knees touching, Bucky's hand coming around to cup the back of Steve's head.

“Hi,” Steve murmured, when the kiss ended. “We did it, love.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky giggled. “Well, we still have to unpack everything. But yeah.”

Steve's smile was gorgeous in the dark of the night. “We have a home.”

“We do.” Bucky said, and reached for another kiss. “ _You_ have a home, Steven Grant Rogers. You got a home and a boyfriend who loves you. You got a team, and a job, and you make the world better.”

“Shut up,” Steve said, and sniffled, but let Bucky kiss him again. “You got a home too,” he whispered. “You got a home, and friends, a boyfriend who thinks you're the best man he's ever met.”

“God, you always gotta win, don't you?” Bucky teased, and snuggled down under the thick blankets. “Sleepy time. We've got a shit ton to do tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.” Steve held his boyfriend while he fell asleep in their bed. He sort of wanted to stay up and enjoy it all, but it had been a long day, and Bucky was warm and heavy against him, and it was easy to drift off. They had so much to do together, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, I missed writing this series! This is just a li'l something I wrote ages ago, kept expecting to finish, and finally figured out that it *is* finished :)

“What are you doing?” Steve had just come into the bedroom, fully expecting to go to sleep like a normal person, until he found his boyfriend totally naked and rubbing lotion onto his legs.

Steve reflected that he complained about his life _far_ too much.

“Ugh, I’ve got a long class tomorrow and my skin’s dry as fuck. A ton of cocoa butter usually helps,” Bucky explained, smoothing the thick lotion into one calf.

“You...rub it in all over?” Steve asked, as all the blood left his brain.

“Well, yeah, I work nude, so.” Bucky sighed at the look on Steve's face. “Oh, Jesus Lord, I broke Captain America.”

“Hrunk,” Steve said.

“Would you like to help me, baby?” Bucky asked sweetly.

“You give me the best presents,” Steve told him, coming over to kneel beside him on the bed.

“That's me. Selfless, giving nature,” Bucky said with a happy sigh, leaning back and extending his leg towards Steve. “Oooh, nice.”

Steve laughed and scooped up some of the thick lotion, rubbing it into Bucky's calf, massaging the tight muscle. “Jesus Lord, did you run a marathon today?”

“Just the usual fifty-yard MTA dash,” Bucky sighed. “Oh, that feels really nice.”

“I'm doing this more often. Or you are. Or someone is,” Steve informed him, thumbs working between the muscles. “Babydoll, you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Babydoll?” Bucky smiled at the look Steve gave him. “I do. You know that, love.”

“Do harder,” Steve teased, and leaned over to kiss Bucky's knee. “How high do you want me to go, honey?”

“Up to my hips and my bum, if you're okay with that?”

“I'm okay with that,” Steve promised, pausing to stroke Bucky's hip. “Promise.”

Bucky smiled up at him. “Don't wanna be a tease.”

“It doesn't work like that,” Steve said, very firmly. “I know you're ace, love. You worry about _your_ body, and _your_ comfort, and I'll take care of things on my end.”

“I get to worry about you too, though,” Bucky argued, while Steve gently flipped him over to get the backs of his legs. “That's part of being together.”

“I know. I give you enough to worry about, I'm pretty sure,” Steve pointed out.

Bucky sighed loudly, but didn't argue as Steve massaged in the thick lotion.

Steve smoothed it into his skin up his legs, his bottom, and started working on his back. “Hey love?” he murmured. “Can I kiss you here?” He touched the small of Bucky's back.

Bucky turned his head and smiled. “Uh huh. Anywhere my bathing suit doesn't cover is fine right now.”

“Got it.” Steve leaned forward to peck Bucky on the lips, then kissed the slope of skin on his back, nuzzling the hard knobs of Bucky's spine.

Bucky giggled softly, and sighed, relaxing into his mattress while Steve continued to smooth the lotion into his skin. Back, and belly (with lots of kisses and open admiration of his body), chest and arms, finishing with a little neck-rub.

“Mmmm, way better than when I'm trying to reach the middle of my back by myself,” Bucky declared, stretching out once Steve had finished. “I'll get dressed in a minute.”

“But why?” Steve asked, clearly slightly wounded at the thought.

Bucky giggled and pushed himself up to kiss Steve. “ _Fine_ .”

Steve grinned and pulled Bucky into his arms, making sure he was warm enough. “Feeling good?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky sighed and reached for a sleepy kiss, smiling when Steve caressed his left shoulder, the stump of his arm. “Love you.”

“Love you too. My gorgeous, gorgeous guy.” Steve made a soft sound as Bucky deepened the kisses, opening his mouth, tongues meeting.

Bucky dotted kisses over Steve's face, then down his throat, even biting his pulse point lightly.

“Baby...” Not a warning, just a status update from Steve, and Bucky took a moment to glow with pride at his man. Steve had _finally_ stopped apologizing for being sexual. Most of the time.

“I know,” he said, and giggled. “Sweetheart, we're pressed together, I _really_ know.” Another kiss. “I know what I'm doing, too,” he murmured in Steve's ear. “This feels good for me, too. If you gotta get yourself off – like this --” 

He turned them so that they were both on their sides, Steve as little spoon. Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's chest, hugging him tightly, and pressed wet, hot kisses to his throat, thoroughly enjoying the way Steve moaned.

“Bucky, oh, love...”

Bucky laughed softly. “I told you this is okay sometimes! This is one of those times.” He closed his eyes and turned Steve's head, the two of them kissing, deep and slow, and Bucky could feel when the kisses became more frantic.

He breathed deep, but still felt okay. Better than okay. He felt good; he was getting his boyfriend off, which was funny and wonderful because people were funny and wonderful. Steve loved him, and loved kissing him; loved his body and the person in it. Loved his scars and his muscles both.

Bucky moaned, and grinned – not a little proudly – when he felt Steve's arm move. He managed to not actually make a face at the sound of skin sliding across skin. That wasn't fair, and instead he kissed Steve. And, feeling daring, plunged his tongue into Steve's mouth, hard.

The noise he got with that trick was  _awesome_ .

Bucky giggled, and did it again, charmed when Steve started laughing. Besides, it let him ignore what was going on below Steve's waist, opting to concentrate on the kisses, his hand on Steve's shoulders, the kisses he was pressing to Steve's back now.

He politely waited until Steve was done making a sound like a cat with its tail stuck in the door, before kissing him again. The blessed man had cleaned himself up in record time, so it was nothing to roll Steve over and snuggle him close.

Steve's smile was sleepy and dumb and utterly adorable. Bucky kissed it until Steve laughed and chased him down, pressing hard, loving kisses to his jaw, his throat, his chest.

Bucky giggled and hugged him tightly, the two of them pressed together now, the low lamplight making Bucky's bed seem to glow as it held them.

“I love you,” Steve said warmly. “Thank you for that. That meant a lot.”

His baby was using his  _words_ . And not apologizing. Bucky was going to send him flowers at work tomorrow, and he told Steve this, enjoying it utterly when Steve cracked up.

They cuddled and teased each other a bit longer, each trying to make the other laugh, which was only effective until Steve started to pet Bucky's back, soothing him and sending him to sleep despite his protests that he wanted to stay up, wanted to talk and cuddle and make Steve roll his eyes again.

  


**Steve [peach emoji]:** _Oh my God. You weren't kidding._

**Bucky [heart emoji]:** _Nope_

**Steve [peach emoji]:** _Jesus Buck_

**Bucky [heart emoji]:** _You used your words and you were very nice and trusted me to set my boundaries. also I do kind of love you._

**Steve [peach emoji]:** _thank you, then. The roses are beautiful :)_

**Steve [peach emoji]:** _Sam wants to know what you're apologizing for tho_

**Bucky [heart emoji]:** _Can I make something up?_

**Steve [peach emoji]:** _Ughhhh no_

  


**Bucky Barnes:** _It's called positive reinforcement dude_

**That Bird Man:** _Yeah yeah, just checking._

**Bucky Barnes:** _Sam. I appreciate your caring for Steve, but trust me to do nice things for him too?_

**That Bird Man:** _I do. Sorry man – just gotta look out for the guy, you know?_

**Bucky Barnes:** _I know. Sorry, I'm not pissed, just. I want him to know that good things happen too._

**That Bird Man:** _Bucky, I promise, he knows that. I really promise._

**Bucky Barnes:** _Good. Come over for dinner sometime soon? We haven't all hung out in ages :)_

**That Bird Man:** _try and keep me away, barnes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


End file.
